Jeankasa Week 2014
by NarwhalOfDoom
Summary: It's Jeankasa Week! This is one of my favorite ships, so I wanted to show my appreciation for it by participating. From December 1st to December 7th, I'll be posting various drabbles based on the daily theme. I hope you enjoy!
1. Day One: Road Trip

**Jeankasa Week Day One: Road Trip**

_Summary: Mikasa and Jean are driving to their new home after just getting married, but they get lost along the way._

_Rating: T_

_Word Count: 1,910_

The sky was an exceptionally pure shade of blue, like a dome of sapphires encompassed the earth above us. The hills, which had steadily begun to increase in altitude, were carpeted in emerald grass, trees of varying sizes and canopies sprouting from the slopes. The worn road wound through the landscape. The two newlyweds traveled this concrete river, the windows of an old convertible rolled down. The wind whipped their ebony and tawny locks into tangled mops that would be a pain to comb out later.

Jean's left hand gripped the wheel and steered the car, while the other rested on the gearshift, Mikasa's hand gently resting on it. "Mikasa," Jean began, "where's the next turn?"

Mikasa looked at the sheet of paper they had printed out with the directions to their new home. "It says we're supposed to turn on Exit 57."

"Thanks, Mikasa." He proceeded to turn around at the next opportunity, and they were soon headed in the right direction. Everything went smoothly for half an hour. They followed the directions correctly, and Mikasa predicted that they would arrive sooner than they had previously hoped. The scenery was becoming increasingly beautiful, as their new home was in the middle of the Appalachian Mountains.

After this half hour of peace, however, Jean groaned and slowed the car to a stop. In front of them lay an endless sea of honking vehicles, all at a complete standstill. "Are you serious?"

Mikasa sighed. "We'll have to wait it out, Jean."

Jean frowned and tuned the radio to a channel with local traffic reports. "On Exit 43, traffic is at a standstill for fifty miles because of a tragic seven-vehicle accident, including an eighteen-wheeler which jackknifed, causing the incident. The estimated wait time from the back of the jam to the front is six hours. If you're in this jam, I strongly advise you to take an alternate route as soon as possible. It's not getting better any time soon." Jean looked at Mikasa. "I'm not waiting for six hours just to get out of this traffic," he stated bluntly.

Mikasa shook her head. "I'm not happy about it either, but we've been through this area how many times? Twice, once for your job interview, and the other to look at houses. We didn't even stop for gas anywhere close to this area. We don't know any other way, Jean."

Jean raised an eyebrow. "This is 2014, Mikasa. Look another way up on my phone."

Mikasa rolled her eyes. "Right." After a minute or two of searching, Mikasa chose a route that fit their situation best. "Our next turn is in two miles. Get into the right lane, and take the first exit."

Jean nodded. "We'll just wait for the next, what, twenty minutes? It's better than six hours, right?"

Mikasa nodded. "It is. But I don't want to get lost, and this route will add an hour to our drive. I don't want to get lost, especially in the dark," she remarked, voicing her concern.

Jean grinned at her, trying to put her at ease. "Relax, it'll be fine. I can get us there, no problem," he said confidently.

"Right. And missing the exit and not noticing it until I pointed it out, thirteen exits later, doesn't mean anything," she deadpanned, referring to a fluke earlier which they noticed half an hour later. She honestly wasn't confident in Jean's navigating skills.

Jean swallowed. "W-well, in my defense–"

"It's okay, Jean. Don't worry about it," Mikasa interrupted. "We'll be fine." She smiled slightly, a rare subtle curvature affecting the soft pink lips that Jean loved so much.

Jean laughed awkwardly. "Right. Fine. I guess my internal compass isn't the best, but I can get us there with your help," he admitted. Mikasa continued to smile at her new dork of a husband, and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Jean blushed and returned the affection. "I need to keep my attention on the road, you know."

"I know, but we're not moving. I'm not going further than that right now," she said, letting him choose which way to interpret the statement.

Jean, however, certainly noticed the 'right now.' "Good." After about ten minutes, he was able to merge into the right lane, and then find the exit, onto which he turned. It was a confusing route, to say the least. There were many twisting country roads, and they had to swerve more than once to avoid flattening a poor woodland animal. Dusk had passed, and the dark was upon them. In the dim illumination of the car's headlights, they made turn after turn, eventually completely unsure where they were. Jean stopped for a moment on the side of the road.

"Jean, we're lost," Mikasa stated in a tone of voice that was mostly stable at first glance, but with a hint of fear lingering just beneath the surface. After all, it was black as pitch outside, and they were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods that seemed straight out of a horror movie.

Jean glanced over at her, slightly concerned. Although he wasn't the most perceptive man in the world, he had learned to read Mikasa after years of friendship, seven months of dating, and six months of engagement. Now, he could easily tell that she wasn't at ease in the situation. Her muscles were slightly tensed, her eyes were slightly wider than they were normally, and her knuckles were white gripping the book in her lap. He bit his lip, she had a point, but he didn't want her to worry. "We're not lost. We passed a town a few minutes ago, we can go ask for directions there."

Mikasa nodded her head, still looking uneasy, and Jean noticed that he had not placated her anxiety. He leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead in a comforting, lingering kiss, his hand cupping her cheek. He pulled back and leaned their foreheads together, far enough apart that they were looking each other in the eyes, pewter meeting caramel. "It's going to be okay, Mikasa. We'll get there, and I'll get us somewhere safe tonight. We can stay the night in a hotel, if you want. Okay?"

Mikasa attempted to smile and nodded slightly. "Good," Jean said. "It'll be okay." He pulled the car back onto the road, heading back in the direction of the town he had previously mentioned. They drove in silence, Jean frequently giving her comforting gazes and kind smiles, if only to let her know that he cared.

Soon they arrived at the aforementioned town, and Mikasa visibly relaxed. At this point, it was about eleven at night, and everything was closed aside from a twenty-four-hour diner and a hotel. The traffic lights cast an eerie light on the places not illuminated by the streetlights, which were few and far in between. Jean pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, which was mostly full. "See, I told you I could get us here safely," Jean said, in a strange mix of his cocky self and his concerned one, trying to be comforting and sensitive, but also lighten the mood a bit.

Mikasa nodded and tried to smile. "Thank you. But…I think that's enough for today. It's late." Honestly, she just wanted to get to sleep and start again tomorrow, her nerves were frazzled. She was normally a level-headed person, but not knowing where she was made her nervous, and it was much worse when she could barely see where they were going.

Jean nodded understandingly. "Of course, Mikasa. I'm tired of driving, anyway." He pecked her cheek softly. "I'll get us a room, wait here, okay?" Mikasa nodded nervously. Alone. In the dark. Great.

After a few minutes, the worried thoughts began to take control of her brain. What is someone found her alone in the car? Sure, she was strong, more than capable of taking care of herself, but what if they had a weapon? And worse, what if something happened to Jean? He was walking by himself. Worst-case scenarios raced through her mind, each one more horrifying than the last. /No,/she told herself. /You aren't doing anything useful by worrying. Nothing's going to happen./ This stopped her from thinking so many awful things, but she couldn't help but feel worried and on edge.

So lost in her own little world of worry was she, that she didn't see Jean approaching the car. As a result, she was startled out of her trance when the click of the door opening sounded. Jean raised his eyebrows. "Did I scare you?"

Mikasa shook her head. "I just wasn't paying attention, sorry. Do we have a room?"

Jean nodded. "Yeah. I can get our suitcase, but could you get the overnight bag?"

Mikasa nodded, and they headed up to finally rest after a long, stressful day.

The two lay in bed in pajamas, Mikasa reading a novel, Jean scrolling through his phone. Eventually, however, Jean noticed that Mikasa was still silent in an unusual way, one that worried him. Although Mikasa was normally somewhat stoic, tonight she was quiet in a more worried way. Jean looked at Mikasa concernedly. "You're still not okay. What's bothering you?"

Mikasa shook her head in an embarrassed way, closing her book. "It's nothing Jean. I'm worrying about nothing."

Jean raised his eyebrows. "Tell me what nothing is," he said, taking one of her hands. "You're not okay."

Mikasa sighed. "Fine. I've just been worried that something might happen to us—especially you. I didn't want you to get hurt. I was afraid that maybe something would happen and I'd be left here without you." After a moment, she added, "I know, it's stupid."

Jean shook his head and leaned closer to her, so that they were only inches apart. "It's not stupid. But I love you. And I," he said, kissing her hand. "Will," he said, accenting the word with a kiss on her forehead. "Never," he continued, adding a lingering kiss to her cheek. "Leave you." With this final statement, he pressed his lips softly to hers. They lingered there for a time that seemed infinite to them. And if it was infinite, it was a beautiful infinity. It was sweet and loving, and filled with soft touches and tender caresses. Their own little infinity was perfect in every way, it was comforting and happy and intimate. It was like every misfortune either of them had ever felt simply melted away, and all the good feelings they had ever felt came back to them, and they felt all of them, all at once. It was /theirs./ No distractions. Nothing to take them away from the moment. It was just them and the love they shared, their lips forming a bridge more solid than any wall of stone.

When they pulled apart, they were both smiling. "I love you," Jean said. "We're safe as long as we're together."

"I know." Mikasa pecked his lips softly. "I love you too."

Not long after, they lay together, drowsily drifting into a deep slumber. Jean held her in a warm embrace, arms like fortresses around her smaller form. She was curled into him, fingers curled against his chest. When he thought she was asleep, Jean kissed the hair on the top of her head. "Good night, Mikasa. I love you." Falling asleep with her never got any less wonderful.

_Thanks for reading my first Attack on Titan Fanfiction! I hope you like it! A review, follow, or favorite would be appreciated, and don't be afraid to tell me what you think! Thank you!_


	2. Day Two: AU

**Day Two: AU**

_Summary: Jean plans to propose to Mikasa on Christmas Eve, despite the fact that he doesn't have much. Much to his dismay, he has a little difficulty getting her alone._

_AU: Modern day, Everyone is alive_

_Rating: K_

_Word Count: 3,005_

Jean knocked nervously on the wooden door in front of him, adjusting his heavy winter coat. The warm air that escaped his mouth in breaths froze into visible white clouds, eventually dissipating into the crisp atmosphere.

After a few moments, just when Jean was about to knock again, the door was opened by a very pretty woman of Japanese descent, with long, dark hair that reached her mid-back, and eyes grey like silver. "Oh, hi, Jean! Please, come in!" The woman stepped aside to let Jean inside the house, who was quite thankful for the opportunity to get out of the cold December air.

"Thank you, Mrs. Ackerman." He quickly let himself in as she closed the door behind him. "Is Mikasa home?"

Mrs. Ackerman shook her head. "No, unfortunately she's not, Jean. Is there something you needed to tell her?"

Jean shook his head. "No, that's fine. In fact, it might be better…" he muttered.

"Hm? What do you mean?" Mrs. Ackerman raised her brows in interest. After all, Jean and Mikasa were practically inseparable, so why would he think it "better" that she wasn't here?

"Oh, nothing…there's just…I'd like to speak to Mr. Ackerman, if he's home. Is he?" Jean nervously scratched the back of his head and glanced around the modest home for any sign of the man.

Mrs. Ackerman nodded, giving him a strange look, but decided not to pry. "Of course, Jean. Wait here for a minute while I get him."

Jean did as he was told while the woman walked back to the master bedroom, awkwardly looking around and taking in the Christmas decor.

He had been to the Ackerman's home several times before, of course, but never around the Christmas holidays. It wasn't a lot; after all, though the Ackermans weren't poor, they weren't rich either. But there were the basics, and it had a cozy feel to it. The tree was lit with classic lights, homemade ornaments from when Mikasa was little hanging from the various artificial branches, and the yearly family ornaments, as well as tinsel and candy canes adorning the tree. It was beautiful in a spontaneous sort of way; there was no theme. It was simply a hodgepodge of different ornaments they had collected over the years. Jean actually preferred it to an impersonal tree decorated with generic sparky baubles. Despite Mikasa's age, the stockings still hung from the mantle, as if waiting to be filled by Saint Nicholas himself. Old Christmas cards were displayed on top of the mantle as mementos from years past, some as old as Mister and Misses Ackerman's first year of marriage, long before Mikasa had even been thought of. It wasn't much, nor was it expensive. But it was still Christmas. Jean actually liked it more than the elaborate displays wealthy people with too much time and money on their hands put up for guests at different Christmas parties to ooh and aah over while nibbling on their hors d'oeuvres and drinking expensive wine from crystal glasses.

Jean was startled from his reverie when Mr. Ackerman appeared with a quizzical expression on his features. "Well, Jean, I can't say I expected you. What brings you here?"

Jean cleared his throat. "I, um, w-well…I have a…question, um, that I kind of want to, um, ask you."

The man chuckled slightly. "Well, then, spit it out! I don't bite, you know."

He seemed amused by Jean's discomfort, and Jean wasn't sure if it was meant to put him at ease or just increase his nerves. Of course, though, it made him more nervous. However, he tried to form a coherent thought and translate it into a complete sentence. "Yes, sir…Um…so, Mikasa and I have been together for a year now, and I really love her. A lot. You know?"

The man nodded wisely. "I can tell. You treat her well, and she talks about you all the time. You're lucky, Jean."

Jean blushed. "I know that. I really am lucky, she's…incredible, sir. And, um…I don't want to lose her."

Mr. Ackerman looked at him in interest. "And so…what are you trying to say?"

Jean took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about this for months. But now, I'm completely sure. I know I'm not very rich. In fact, I don't have hardly any money at all. I don't have much to offer. But I was wondering…I was wondering if I could have your daughter's hand in marriage?"

Mr. Ackerman looked at Jean for a little while in silence. This, of course, made Jean far more nervous, and he stumbled over words trying to explain himself further. "I-I've even bought the ring. A-and, if you want to see it, I've got it in my pocket here," and Jean fumbled with his jacket and began to pull out a velvet-covered box. "And, she told me not to get her anything for Christmas, because of my situation, but I can't do that, so I thought I'd propose on Christmas, if that's okay with you. But—"

Mr. Ackerman had begun to stifle laughter behind a hand. "Jean, if you're that eager, of course. Stop babbling."

Jean blushed, then brightened. "O-oh…really?" He could hardly believe his ears. He had half-expected a no, with his circumstance.

The man nodded, then grew more serious. "Yes, Jean. You don't have much, but the fact that you saved what little you have to get her a ring speaks volumes. You obviously love her very much, and I'm sure you'll be a good husband for her." He sighed. "As much as I hate to let her go…and while she's still in college, at that…I'm willing to let you."

Jean grinned. "Thank you, Mr. Ackerman. Thank you so much. I promise, I'll make her happy."

The man nodded. "I know you will. But you have to realize that the first years are going to be rough. She's in college, and even with a full scholarship, the financial situation will be rough. But she's going into a field with a lot of demand, so you'll be stable soon. Do you understand that?"

Jean nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll work more jobs if I need to, to make sure we have what we need."

Mikasa's father nodded. "It will require some sacrifice. But I believe that you can do it."

Jean nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Ackerman. You won't regret this decision. Thank you."

•~•~•~•

The snow was falling softly outside, blanketing the grass and trees and everything else on the ground in white. It was peaceful, grateful in a way. Inside, however, was a completely different story.

Apparently, the Ackermans liked to invite the entire clan along to celebrate on Christmas Eve, all opening presents and feasting together. Of course, Jean knew about three of them other than Mikasa and her parents, which included her cousin, Levi, her grandmother, and Levi's wife, who actually managed to be shorter than him.

Needless to say, Jean was stuck awkwardly hovering around Mikasa while he was bombarded with names and faces he would probably forget before the night was over. This probably wasn't the best position to be in, considering how he was about to be a part of this family, and ought to know their names, but it wasn't exactly his fault. After all, last Christmas, they had only been dating for a couple of weeks, and Jean had to visit his sick grandmother in the hospital until she died, thus eradicating his only living relative from the world.

He wasn't an introvert, far from it. But not knowing anyone was still a little awkward. Especially when they beamed about how "precious" he was and gave him hugs and kisses like they'd known him his whole life. He guessed it was more than a warm welcome, but he wasn't used to such affection, considering how his mom was an alcoholic until she asphyxiated herself while passed out from another night of binge drinking, and his father left when he was three.

The only truly bad thing about the whole situation was that he wasn't sure when he could get her alone to propose. He would surely have to wait all night until everyone had gone home, and only god knew when that would be.. The ring was in his pocket, since he had planned to propose not long after he arrived. It didn't look like that would happen anytime soon. It wasn't going to be an easy task.

Soon it was time for dinner, and the dozens of relatives were crammed any place they could sit, at the table, on the couch, at the breakfast bar, and even on the hearth of the fireplace (which surely was a fire hazard, but they didn't seem to mind). Mrs. Ackerman and some of the others had helped her cook, including Mikasa's grandmother, an uncle he had never met, two aunts, and Levi's wife, Petra, and they had fixed a feast for an army of starving kings. Jean was by Mikasa at the table, a platter of pungent turkey, tangy cranberry sauce, steaming mashed potatoes, and various other holiday cuisine sitting before him. Somehow, he had managed to almost completely consume such a plethora of food, and it was absolutely scrumptious. Mikasa raised her eyebrows at Jean in an amused fashion. "We're you hungry, Jean? You've almost eaten that whole thing."

Jean nodded, finding it a little funny himself. "I could've eaten a horse."

Mikasa's grandmother passed by then. "Oh, good for you, dear. You're skinny anyway, a little extra would do you some good," she said, squeezing his shoulder.

Jean blushed slightly and Mikasa rolled her eyes. "Sorry, Jean. She thinks everyone should eat until they're sick, and then more.

Jean shook his head. "No, it's fine. It's a grandma thing, I guess. Mine wasn't rich, but she did try to make a hot meal every night. Even when she was getting sicker and I told her to take it easy, she did her best. So it's not just your grandmother."

Mikasa shrugged. "I suppose you're right. Still, she doesn't have to worry." She put down her fork and looked at him more seriously. "So, my father told me you got me something."

Jean winced. She wasn't supposed to know—what if she knew about the proposal? No, she would've mentioned it before now. Still, it wasn't going as planned. He told a white lie, so it seemed less significant that the truth of the gift. "I did. I knew you'd get me something, and I didn't want to be a bad boyfriend."

Mikasa frowned. "You wouldn't be a bad boyfriend. We discussed this. I didn't want you to strain yourself financially, you know that."

"I know. But you can't change it. You're getting it, whether you like it or not. Besides, you've got a gift for me," Jean said.

Mikasa sighed. "Fine. I can't change it. But you really didn't have to."

Jean smiled. "But it's important. And I was hoping that we could exchange gifts tonight, privately. Is that okay with you?"

Mikasa nodded. "I'm okay with that. But it'll be a while."

Jean looked quizzically at her. "Like, how long?"

Mikasa laughed. "Like, an hour or two. People stay around for awhile after dinner. It's not often they get to catch up all together like this, even though they'll see each other tomorrow."

Jean groaned. It was going to be a long night.

•~•~•~•~•

Finally, after countless bear hugs and smooches, all the guests had finally disappeared. Jean had actually learned some names, knowing how important family was to Mikasa. Besides, if he was going to be part of the family, he might as well be able to properly identify all of them. Not long after the last couple had vacated the house, Jean went to his car and slipped the ring in his pocket. He went back inside quickly, for the night air was freezing, and saw Mikasa cleaning up abandoned plates and cups. "Mikasa," he began, "is it okay if we go ahead and do this?"

She smiled and nodded. "Just give me a second to put these away and get your gift." Jean was left to stand awkwardly in the living room as he had done a couple of weeks ago, waiting for Mikasa to return. Mr. Ackerman, thankfully, had noticed Jean's actions and had taken Mrs. Ackerman into the kitchen under the false premise of washing dirty dishes.

Mikasa soon returned with a relatively small box in hand, wrapped in gold paper. "This is yours, do you want to open first?"

"I do want to go first, actually," he replied, taking the gift from her hands. He carefully opened the wrapping, making sure not to rip the paper, a little quirk of his. It revealed a jewelry box that, when opened, contained a golden watch. A very nice one at that, probably not very cheap. "I knew you wanted a nicer one, yours is falling apart," she explained.

Jean smiled in wonder at the gift, then embraced her. "Thank you so much, Mikasa. It's love it, I'll wear it every day."

Mikasa beamed. "You're welcome, Jean, I hoped you'd like it." After a moment, she realized that there was no visible gift for her. She was okay with it, but he had very obviously stated he had something for her, why would he lie about something like that and lead her on for so much? And going so far to tell her father? She doubted Jean would do such a thing, it wasn't in his nature. "Jean," she started, pulling apart, "I don't want to seem demanding, but you said you had a gift for me. Where is it?"

Jean smiled in excitement. "Don't worry, I've got it. Just close your eyes first, and don't open them until I tell you to."

Mikasa rolled her eyes at such a cheesy move, but did as he wished. She shut her eyelids and heard a little shuffling about. What could he be doing? "Alright," she heard him say. "You can open your eyes now."

She blinked and looked down in confusion. What was he doing kneeling… Oh. Oh god. He was holding a ring box. And it had a ring in it. And he was doing the puppy eyes thing, which meant he really wanted something. Oh god. "Jean, what…" She knew what was happening, she just couldn't quite believe it.

Jean smiled nervously. "Mikasa, you know that I love you. And I know that you love me. I don't have a lot to offer. I'm not rich, or particularly smart or romantic or good-looking. But," he continued, before she could object to any of these statements. "I've been thinking about this for months. I can't live my life without you. I know you're still in college, and it'll be tough for a couple of years. But I don't ever want to lose you. So…Mikasa, will you marry me?"

Mikasa stood in shock for a moment, lot tears forming in the corners of her grey eyes. "Yes," she said, managing to speak past the knot in her throat, nodding. "Absolutely."

"Oh, thank you, Mikasa, thank you so much." Jean stood and wrapped her in a warm embrace, kissing her over and over again. "I love you so much," he kept saying.

And then she was really crying, and they were both complete messes. Extremely happy messes giving each other salty kisses and tight mugs and tacking their fingers in each others' hair. They were both completely wrecked, and completely in love.

After a little while, they pulled apart and Jean gently slipped the ring on her finger, kissing her hand gently as he did so. She studied the piece of jewelry in awe. It was absolutely beautiful, exactly what she could ever want. It was a relatively simple ring, platinum embedded with a diamond, tiny amethysts surrounding the pure, clear gem. "It's really beautiful, Jean. Thank you."

"I hoped you would like it. You mentioned liking amethysts one time," Jean said.

Mikasa smiled. "I do like it. I couldn't ask for anything more."

•~•~•~•~•

Needless to say, Mikasa's mother was positively ecstatic when she found out that night, as was the rest of the family the next day. They oohed and ahed over the ring, and many wished them happiness. Tears were even shed by some of the more sentimental ones. (Petra couldn't stop, her mascara was nearly all off her eyelashes by the time she was done, she and Mikasa were good friends. Levi had to escort her to the bathroom, rolling his eyes and mumbling about "stupid kids and their stupid engagements," even though he was no doubt remembering his own.) Her cousin, Eren, was a different story altogether. He had always cared deeply for Mikasa, and so he was wary of the engagement. But he still wanted for Mikasa what made her happy, so he didn't protest too much. Jean could still catch him staring daggers across the room. Jean could only hope that soon his disapproval would disappear.

They were bombarded with questions about the wedding, when it would be, what food they would have, what the theme would be, what her dress would look like, what the color scheme was so they could match, and all sorts of things, the answer to which were all identical: "I have no idea."

But there was one thing that particularly resonated with Jean. These people hardly knew him. To them only hours ago, he was just Mikasa's boyfriend, a new thing to talk about, but someone they had never met. But, despite all this, they accepted him. They immediately treated him as one of their own kin. They didn't care that he had no money. They didn't care that he had no family. They didn't care that he didn't even have a college education. They loved him. And to Jean, he realized that this—not his deadbeat dad and drunken mother—was family. People who love you unconditionally. People who accept you, no matter who you are. This was Mikasa's family, and because it was hers, it was now his. And he couldn't be happier.

*Author's Note: Thanks for reading my contribution to Day 2 of Jeankasa Week! I know it was cheesy, but I loved it. Don't forget to drop a review, follow, or favorite if you like! I love feedback! Thanks!*


	3. Day Three: Close Calls

**Day Three: Close Calls**

_Summary: After Jean saves Mikasa from getting hit by a car, they form a close friendship that quickly grows into something more._  
><em>Rating: All Ages<em>  
><em>Word Count: 2,598<em>

The thing about cities is that streetlights aren't really necessary. The lights of the flashing signs and buildings are enough to guide even the most blind driver. Somehow, though, it wasn't tonight.

Perhaps that sounds a little dramatic, and I suppose it is. But nevertheless, it's true. I speak from firsthand experience. But I guess I'm jumping the gun. I should probably just tell you the story already. That's what good narrators do. So let's go ahead and do that.

•~•~•~•~•

Okay, so once upon a time, I was in a cafe at six p.m. Bad decision, I know. But I'm a college kid and earlier tonight I had a paper to do that I thought would take forever, so my caffeine intake is justified. Now, in this coffee shop, I was sipping a mocha frappuchino while typing a horrifying essay for Modern History about World War One. I suppose it's an interesting topic, but I'm not one for writing ten pages on anything, really. Luckily, I had written six pages before tonight, and I'd been there for a couple of productive hours, so I had one page left.

I was about in the middle of the final page when an absolutely gorgeous girl sat a couple of tables away from me. Now, I shouldn't just call her "gorgeous girl," that sounds like I don't know her but happen to think she's really attractive. I know her. Sort of. She sits a couple of seats away from me in French class. She has this beautiful long hair the color of raven's wings, and eyes like smoke. Her skin is ridiculously radiant and smooth, and from what I can tell, she doesn't even wear makeup, except maybe some mascara to define her lashes. Her name is Mikasa Ackerman, and she is literally the prettiest girl I have ever seen.

And it is ridiculously frustrating, because I, Jean Kirstein, voted Most Likely To Have A Girlfriend in Senior Year, the smoothest flirt on the face of the earth, and the most handsome one at that, cannot talk to her. At all. Because whenever I even look at her, my tongue ties itself into knots, and the neat process of my brain sort of catches on fire and so I'm left with this complete mess while all the thoughts freak out and try to get out of my head at once to escape the fire, but they don't know how because there are no instructions for this kind of fire, and so random combinations of words just slip out of my mouth, all at once, and not one phrase is a coherent sentence. It's ridiculous. I've tried the simplest pick-up lines, but I even mixed those up. I asked her if it hurt when she fell from Tennessee. When she fell from Tennessee. And in case you didn't catch what's wrong, the only thing that falls from Tennessee is bad country music about alcohol and naked women. Definitely not angels, which is where I was trying to go with that.

So of course, from this point on, I wrote approximately three words in the next half hour. Then, I got up to get another drink, and when I turned around, she was already gone. Weird, she didn't stay long. Maybe she didn't have much work to do. Whatever the case, the cafe was closing in half an hour, so I decided to walk back and do my work in my dormitory.

I wasn't far from my apartment, so instead of getting a cab, I decided I would just walk. And apparently, so did Mikasa. She was just crossing the street in front of me, her beautiful hair flipping back in the night breeze. Now, if you think I was being creepy, I can confirm that you are wrong. I was not, I just happened to be a safe distance behind her while also knowing it was her and being able to see what she was doing. Not creepy at all, mind you. I saw the light that indicated whether she could walk or not turn red, and eventually I caught up to her, just a few feet away. She and I were both closest to the cub, so we would get to walk first. The light eventually turned green, and I was just behind her. Suddenly, the headlights of a truck became visible, speeding towards Mikasa at sixty miles an hour. It didn't look like it was stopping, and Mikasa didn't notice it, she was too busy texting or something.

In a split second, I made a risky decision. I leaped forward and pulled Mikasa back by her coat as far back as I could, and if she choked, at least she wasn't flattened. She screamed and quickly tried to struggle away, most likely not understanding what had happened, but then the truck zoomed by, right where she had been three seconds earlier. I quickly released her collar and looked down. "Sorry. I just…didn't want you to get hit."

She looked at me strangely, most likely a little shocked by her brush with death. "Yeah. Thanks. I think I've seen you somewhere. Do we know each other?"

Of course she didn't remember my name. People like her tended to keep to themselves, and once they had a friend or two, pay no attention to anyone else. And I'd only complimented her a couple of times in the entire semester and a half. So it was no surprise. Still, I had hoped that she might…. "Yeah, we do. I-I'm in your French class. I think…I think we've talked a couple of times." I blushed slightly. I mean, in a manly way. Oh, god, forget I mentioned it. "I'm Jean, by the way. Jean Kirstein."

Mikasa nodded slowly, as if some slight, faded scrap of a memory was beginning to come back. "Oh…Yes, I've seen you before. I'm Mikasa. And…I guess this is the part where I thank you for saving my life, hm?" She smiled, slightly amused.

Oh god, her smile…it was really small, but it was so beautiful. I can't even explain it, I just really loved it. My heart sort of started beating really quickly and I sort of felt like I needed to throw up, except I didn't, because that wouldn't be very smooth. I swallowed and tried to act casual. "I-I guess that's customary, I don't know," I said with a little grin that was probably way dorkier than I intended.

"Hm," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, thanks for saving my life. That wouldn't be my preferred way of going, anyway."

"You're welcome, Mikasa. And I guess getting hit by a truck would kind of suck," I said. Because, when I thought about it, that would suck.

"It would," she agreed. "I should probably head back to my apartment now, it's getting late."

I nodded. "Yeah, sure. Do you want me to walk you home? Like, you'll be safe?"

She smiled slightly—oh god—and nodded. "I'll be fine Jean. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

She started walking away and I was left to stare after her. Had I really just carried on a full conversation with the prettiest girl on the planet? Yes. I really had.

•~•~•~•~•

The month after the truck incident, I didn't have much of a problem talking to Mikasa. Sure, I was still awkward, but at least I could carry on a conversation. You could even say we were starting to become friends. I certainly considered us friends, and I was 75% positive that she did, too. And so, being the man I am, I finally got up the guts to ask her on a date. It went a little like this.

It was after class one day, and we were talking about something like how much of a jerk Professor Rivaille was. Or really, I was talking and she was listening and doing her little bemused smile, like most of our conversations. Then, she said she had to go back to her dorm, and, being the gentleman I am, offered to escort her.

So we were walking, since her dorm wasn't far away, and we started talking about our idea of romance. I'm not exactly sure how, I think she was talking about how she hated how overly-unrealistic chick flicks were, even though she couldn't help but like them. Anyway, she said her idea of romance was someone to care for and protect, as well as someone to listen and talk to. And mine was a little cheesy, someone to hold at night. And I don't care if that sounds stupid or girly or whatever, like, who doesn't want a teddy bear that you can make out with and love and stuff?

So our conversation continued, and somehow it got to this point.

"Actually, Mikasa, I've been thinking. Maybe…" I got a little embarrassed then, because she was doing her little smile and it sort of made my brain turn into mush and I was probably blushing a little bit. How manly.

"Hm. What about? Thinking can be a dangerous pastime, you know," Mikasa joked.

I gulped and scratched the back of my neck, a nervous habit. "Well, you know…I kind of like you…a little and…um…I was um…Iwaswonderingifmaybeyouwantedtogoonadate?" I meant to ask her out much more slowly, and clearly at that, but at least I said it. God, I was such a dork around her, like, why was it that I couldn't think straight around her? I mean, I get having a crush on someone, but why do the symptoms have to include jumbled thoughts and a shaky stomach? It's frustrating.

By this time, we had reached Mikasa's dorm, and found ourselves right outside her door. She was looking at me in a strange, unreadable way, and for a minute, I was afraid I'd made it awkward and she would never speak to me again. That would suck. But after a minute or two, she smiled slightly. "Sure Jean. Pick me up tomorrow night at six." With that, she stood on her tiptoes—which was really cute—and kissed my cheek, then opened the door to her apartment and headed inside.

I was left standing outside her door a little stunned. Did she really just say—what? And did she actually kiss—what?! Obviously, that was a goodbye. And I was just standing outside her door like a creep. I started walking away to my car, touching my cheek right where her soft lips had been not a minute before.

•~•~•~•~•

At five the next evening, I was obsessively fixing myself to be perfect. I normally don't care about my appearance, but this evening was different. I would constantly find hairs out of place and try to comb them back where they needed to be, and I kept straightening my tie. I was dressed in black pants (with a belt, of course) and a dark green button-up shirt with a black tie. There was a nicer restaurant I planned to take her to, and I wanted to impress her. I suppose my repetitive re-grooming was a way of passing time.

Eventually, it was 5:30, and I wanted to be prompt, so I got in my car and drove on campus to her dorm, where I knocked on her door and waited for it to open. I wasn't kept waiting long, though, she came out a minute later. I guess she had been waiting, too. And my god, she was gorgeous. She was wearing a knee-length cranberry-colored dress—I guess it's called a sundress?—with black heels, and a bit of lip stuff that was the perfect shade. I couldn't even speak for a minute, I just looked at her in awe. "Mikasa, you look…wow. I mean, you look pretty every day but…wow," I said oh-so-eloquently.

"Impressive vocabulary, Jean," she said facetiously. (Oh, "facetiously," where's the impressive vocabulary now?) After a minute she responded seriously. "I'm kidding. Thanks, Jean." I'm pretty sure she was blushing, which was a good sign. "You look nice too."

I grinned. "Really? Thanks, Mikasa." I offered my arm. "Would you like to go?"

She nodded and looped her arm through mine. "Of course, Jean."

•~•~•~•~•

So, I know I'm generally optimistic about these things, so I might not provide a completely accurate measure of success, but you could safely say that both of us enjoyed it. Mikasa was smiling the entire time, and you could bet I was blushing like the idiot I've slowly begun to realize I am.

After we had eaten dinner, which was expensive, but worth it, we took a walk through the park. Cheesy and cliçhe, I get it. But I think I'm a cheesy and cliçhe kind of guy, to be honest. We held hands the entire time. It was really beautiful that night. The moon was out, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and you could see a few stars twinkling above. There was a comfortable breeze blowing, making Mikasa's hair flutter around and her dress flow around her knees. Right before we were about to decide to go back to my car, we decided to stand and talk on one of those little wooden bridges over a pond and talk.

And suddenly, I was kissing her. It wasn't intense or drawn-out or anything, it was short and sweet. It was chaste, the way first-dare kisses should be. Her lips were soft and smooth and sweet, and when we pulled away, we lingered, looking into each other's eyes, like they do in sappy romance movies.

Soon, though, it was time to go back. I held her small, soft hand in mine, and as we got to the street, waited for the light to go from an orange hand to a white figure walking so we could go. Once it did, we were about halfway across when a car came speeding towards us. Mikasa didn't notice it, but I did and pushed her towards the curb. She was easily safe, but I barely got out of the way in time.

As soon as I got to the other side, heart pounding and adrenaline coursing through my veins, Mikasa wrapped me in a tight hug. "Jean! Are you okay?"

After a look in her eyes, I could see that she was terrified. I smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was no problem. I think cars should watch more often, though."

She smiled her bemused smile. "Why do I find myself being targeted by inattentive drivers whenever I'm around you?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. But it does happen more often than is normal."

She nodded. "That it does. It's crazy." She shook her head in disbelief. And she had the right to, after all, I'd saved her from cars twice in the course of a month. "And," she began, quoting the conversation we had after this sort of thing the first time. "I guess this is the part where I thank you for saving my life, hm?"

I grinned, remembering the cost time I had really talked to her as well. "I-I guess that's customary, I don't know."

She smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "Hm. Well, thanks for saving my life."

"You're welcome," I said, grinning. I took her hand, and we walked back, being extra careful to avoid any rogue drivers.

•~•~•~•~•

_*Author's Note: Okay, so that was my contribution to Day Three! I get it, super cheesy. In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a super cheesy writer. XD Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! I loved writing it! Feel free to leave a little bit of feedback, I'm always looking to improve! A review, follow, or favorite would be appreciated, if you liked it. Thanks!*_


	4. Day Four: Chance Meeting

**Day Four: Chance Meeting**

_Summary: Three years after the defeat of the Titans, the members of Levi's squad have all gone their separate ways, many losing track of one another. Mikasa, as much as she hates to admit it, misses one person in particular, one that she desperately hopes to meet again._  
><em>Rating: K<em>  
><em>Word Count: 3,174<em>  
><em>AN: Stay With Me is a good song to listen to at the end._

It had been three years since they fully eliminated the Titans. During those three years, people had begun to settle outside the Walls, and the military had completely dissolved. Only a small branch comprising of previous members of the Garrison remained to keep order among the citizens, although there was rarely anything for them to do. The Walls of humanity had become something of a utopia. People were so united through the triumph over the Titans that they felt no need to fight among each other. The deadliest foe had been eliminated, why create another?

However, because of the military's dissolution, many former servicemen and women had lost contacts with each other after they moved to different areas or even outside the Walls. One of these people was Mikasa Ackerman. She, Eren, and Armin had remained tightly knit as old friends, but they had lost track of the others they once called their comrades. Mikasa regretted this, for she had shared and won and lost so much with the others. Sometimes, she would remember Christa, Ymir, Levi, Hanji, and the others, and dearly missed their company, despite all of their quirks. However, there was one man in particular that she missed most. Jean.

As indifferent as she had seemed to Jean and his obvious partiality towards her, she had grown to truly care for him near the end of their time together. However, once they parted ways, never did she hear from him again. It seemed, as much as she was hurt by the thought, that she would not be able to satisfy her hopes.

Now, her life was different. The government, after making sure that any and all Titans were gone, offered a fair reward for those who decided to pioneer outside the Walls and begin growing their own food. She, Armin, and Eren had, of course, been some of the first to accept the offer. As veterans of the Scout Legion, she, Armin, and Eren had all received a large sum of money from the government, and were able to hire someone to build their houses. But other things, they could not have done for them. They had to sow their own soil and grow their own crops. It was still difficult, as the soil wasn't accustomed to being used for agriculture. The first year, hardly any crops were yielded in the harvest. But it was quickly becoming easier, and Mikasa rarely had to go inside the Walls for any food, except meat. Although she had no problem killing Titans, the murder of innocent farm animals was more than she could stomach, so she had to buy it.

Today was a day that Mikasa would have to go to the market. She awoke to rays of golden sun streaming through the window, a sight she never grew tired of. In the Walls, something was always blocking the sun, whether it be the overcrowded buildings or the Walls themselves. She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her grey eyes. She used well water to wash her face, and took a bath in some that was heated.

She liked to get an early start on the days of trips into the Walls, and chose not to wake Eren or Armin. On her way out the door, she grabbed a fresh apple, eating it as she walked out to the pasture where they kept the three horses they had. Mikasa held the apple in her clenched teeth and saddled the animal, fur the color of bronze, shiny and smooth in the early morning light. Thus, Mikasa began her journey into town.

Mikasa was walking through the market place, picking out fruits and vegetables to eat for the next week. Her bags were soon full of crops they didn't grow, as well as several cuts of meat, including beef and chicken. She was on her way to a stall that sold baked goods, as a treat, when she tripped over something, sending the contents of her cloth grocery bags sprawling across the cobblestones. Embarrassed, she began gathering the plants up, putting them back in her bags as she went.

Suddenly, a figure had stopped to help her, although she hid her face in shame, not looking at who it was who was so kind. Soon, all the goods were gathered together and put back in their proper place. She looked up to thank the one who had assisted her, when her breath caught in her throat. No…it couldn't be…surely not? But it really was?

"Jean?" She asked in disbelief. "Is it…is it really you?"

He looked equally shocked. "Mikasa? I…I've been wondering where you've been all this time…and now…you're here?"

Mikasa shook her head, trying to process the situation. "I've been wondering where you've been the minute I realized I didn't know how to find you. Where were you?"

Jean drew in a quick breath in surprise. She had been thinking about him all these years? He thought he was always the last person on her mind, but…maybe she was just saying that to be polite. But still, the way she worded it made it seem like she genuinely wanted to find him. "I've been living in Wall Rose, where have you been? I-I've been…thinking about you too." He felt the heat rush to his face then, and glanced away. Hopefully she didn't notice.

So he was still thinking about her, after all these years. Was it in the way she desperately hoped? "I settled outside the Walls with Eren and Armin, I'm buying our food for the week now."

Jean looked surprised at her. He supposed that was why they hadn't run into each other before, but she didn't seem like the person to go outside. Then again, she was so loyal to Eren, and he seemed determined to explore the outside word, so it wasn't that surprising that she followed him. "Really? I've always wondered how that was going, I didn't know anyone who had done it. What's it like?"

Mikasa thought a bit. "It's more free. You see the sun every morning, no walls or crowded buildings to block it out. I really love it. There's grass beneath your feet instead of stone, you can grow as many flowers as you want, and you don't have to worry about people taking your things. It's quiet. And we're trying to get to the point where we're mostly self-sufficient. So we only have to come into the Walls for meat every once in a while. It's much more beautiful."

Jean resisted the urge to tell her that it couldn't be as beautiful as her. That would be far to cheesy, and Mikasa wasn't the type to like cheesy. "That sounds really nice. Do you ever miss this? Being surrounded by people?"

Mikasa shook her head. "Occasionally I miss some of the people in the Walls, but nothing else. I'm happy to live quietly. It's a nice change after the constant action and fear we used to live in."

Jean thought about it. "I guess I'd do it, I'm just not sure how it would work out. You're more vulnerable."

Mikasa shrugged. "I suppose. But it's not really that bad, the positive far outweighs the negative." She paused before continuing. It might be a little risky, but she decided to ask him anyway. "You can come see it, if you want. But only if you'd like."

Jean surprised, and then nervous. In essence, she…she was inviting him to her place. Well, hers, Armin's, and Eren's. But…wow. He was tempted to say no in fear of making a fool of himself, and part ways with each other's contact information, maybe send letters and meet up on Saturdays every once in a while. But…she seemed to genuinely want him to come, and he had nowhere to be for days. His job was part-time, after all. His father's business had become successful to the point that Jean had been able to hire managers to be at the shop when he didn't want to. And the profits kept coming. So, hesitantly, he agreed. "I would. Although, I need to drop this stuff off at my place."

An hour and a half later, they were reaching Mikasa's home. They had decided it would be best for Jean to stay the night, since by the time he got back to his house in Wall Rose it would be late at night. Jean, as it turned out, hadn't been outside the Walls in a year, so everything was even more beautiful to him. The dark green leaves gently rustled above their heads, the breeze tickling his face. Little pockets of blue showed through the canopy, and occasionally a bit of pure white from the clouds like marshmallows. And Mikasa…he couldn't even begin to describe her. She was like everything beautiful, graceful like a stream of pure water, with the regality of a queen. She was like a storm, terrifying and strong and ever-changing. But for all of this, she was perfect. For all her battle scars, she was twice as beautiful, unparalleled by anyone he had ever come upon.

And yet, of this she had no idea. She didn't believe that she was any of this. Mikasa had no idea that these were the things he had fallen in love with so many years ago, and what he was still in love with. If she would only listen to him, if she would only return what he so ardently felt for her, then she might understand the extent of her perfection. But it seemed as though she was as indifferent to him as she had always been. And perhaps it would never change. Perhaps she would fall in love with someone and marry them and dart a family, but it wouldn't be him. And all his life, he would desire a woman far too great to love him, a woman far too strong to feel passion for a man as weak as he. No, in all of this, there was no perhaps. Because it was truly how their lives would go on. And as much as it hurt, he accepted it. He would be content as her friend. He was determined, if nothing else, to be a shoulder to shed tears on. When the one she loved wounded her, he would listen. When she needed to laugh, he would tell a joke. But no farther than that. He chose to be content with this fate.

As he was thinking these thoughts, they arrived at her home. It was beautiful, and he could see why she loved it. Small and quaint. Peaceful. Maybe, after so much pain and hurt and loss within the Walls, this was like an escape. No reminder of anyone she had once been close to. Just her and Eren and Armin, like it was before they got mixed up in the military. No Titans. No dead parents. Just them. And maybe Jean would like it too. He wasn't sure.

Mikasa dismounted her horse, then led it to a fence, which opened to some sort of grazing area. She gestured to Jean to do the same. He took his bag and walked inside with her, where he put his things by the couch, where he would be sleeping. Armin and Eren, needless to say, we're extremely surprised.

"Jean?" Armin's eyes were wide with disbelief.

"Where have you been?" Eren had reacted similarly. With that, the boys began catching up, sharing stories about their lives and occupations in the years they had lost. During this, Mikasa made dinner, beef stew. The rich aroma of spices and broth wafted through the house, making their mouths water and stomachs growl. Mikasa was satisfied just listening to the conversation while it cooked. Words were not necessary when everyone else was using them. She was getting all the entertainment or information she could need then, just hearing what they were saying.

After a little while, the stew had finished cooking, and she ladled substantial servings into bowls for each of them and set them at a table, where they dug in. When they first moved outside the Walls together, Mikasa had almost no experience cooking, Armin and Eren even less so. So, for a little while, they lived off burnt or undercooked meals that were over-salted or under-seasoned. Soon, though, she learned from her mistakes, and now the two others claimed that she had culinary skills matching their mothers'.

Mikasa received the nightly praise for meals, an extra bit from Jean, and they stayed up for another hour talking. Then, they agreed to go ahead and go to bed, and talk more in the morning.

Jean woke to a faint whimpering coming from the direction of a bedroom. He didn't want to intrude, but he found it somewhat strange. He sat up, and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He fumbled his way in the direction of the pitiful noise, somehow managing to keep from crying out and swearing when he stubbed his toe. The door was ajar, and he considered going in, but realized that would be an invasion of privacy. In lieu of simply entering, he knocked on the door frame. In a second, the sound stopped, replaced by the sound of heavy—almost scared?—breathing and rustling sheets. "H-hello?" It was Mikasa's feminine voice that answered.

"Mikasa, it's Jean. Are you decent?" After all, he didn't want to walk in on something not meant for his eyes. What if she was someone who slept in underwear or whatever?

"Y-yes," she said in a whisper. Jean pushed open the door and saw, by the moonlight, Mikasa sitting up and rubbing her eyes, hair in a tangled mess. He sat on the edge of her bed. "Mikasa, what wrong? I woke up and…I don't know, you sounded scared."

Mikasa sniffed, and Jean realized that tears streaked her face. "N-nothing, it's…just…a bad dream, that's all."

Jean had enough logic to realize that it probably wasn't just a bad dream. Probably more like one of those dreams that terrorized you every night in which the worst things you've ever experienced are relived over and over, each repetition more twisted and horrifying than the last, until you can't discern fiction from reality, even in real life. Jean would know because he had them too, almost every night. "I have a hard time believing that." He ran his fingers through her hair, gently taming the mess of raven hair. "Tell me what happened."

She swallowed and wiped another tear. "When I was little, my mother died, right in front of me. She was…she was killed. And they tried to take me. And…and now, I dream of it, and sometimes all the awful things that I've seen creep into it. Tonight the men who killed her were replaced by Titans and I was forced to watch before they killed me too. It was…I know that never happened, but it's…it's terrifying, Jean."

Tears began to stream down her face again, and he pulled her close, her face against his chest. "Shhh, Mikasa, you're alright." He stroked the hair on her head reassuringly and held her tightly, letting her know that he was there. That he cared. That he would protect her from anything.

After a while, she calmed down, and realized what she was doing. She sniffed and pulled away, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry Jean. I shouldn't worry about it. It never happened."

He shook his head. "You can't help it. How long have you been having them?" He looked concerned and wiped a stray tear from her cheek gently with his thumb.

"Every once in a while when I was younger, except there were no Titans. And then, I started fighting T-Titans, and watching my f-friends die, and they got worse. And now, they h-happen almost every n-night." She started out with her voice almost completely stable, but the facade quickly deteriorated.

Jean resisted the urge to kiss her. He was just comforting her now, nothing more. "I know how it feels. I'm pretty sure we all have them. I…I imagine Marco dying almost every night, even though I didn't see it. You're not alone."

She was silent for a while. "I'm sorry, Jean. Sometimes I forget that everyone else has lost people too."

"Don't be. We're worrying about you now, remember?" Jean was okay with himself now, what he wasn't okay with was the way she was feeling. He took hold of her hand and traced circles on it with his thumb tenderly.

"Hm." She was silent for a minute. "I just…I want them to go away, Jean. I wish this would all just…be behind me. I don't want to think about it." And her voice was so broken, so filled with pain, that it hurt him too.

He pulled her close once more. She didn't pull away, she stayed in his arms. "I know. You're safe now, though. You're safe." And they sat there for a very long time in silence, taking comfort in each other's warmth. It was just them. It felt like they were the only two people who had ever existed in the world.

"Jean?"

"Yes?"

"Will you stay with me? At least tonight?"

"Yes."

With these words, he crawled underneath the covers next to her and drew her close, holding her in his arms. He held her so that she would feel safe. So that she would know he was there. So that she would know that she didn't have to worry. That it was just them, and it would always be them. He was concrete. He wouldn't fail her. He would stay with her as long as she needed. Forever and ever.

He waited until her breathing was deep and she seemed asleep to whisper in ear. "I never stopped loving you."

"I know," she answered. "I never stopped loving you either." And those words gave him the courage to kiss her. Not hard. Not passionately. Not intensely. Softly. Just like a kiss should be when you're both broken into a thousand pieces and you're trying to put each other back together. Gently.

_'And to think,'_ he thought as he was drifting off to sleep, _'none of this would have happened if I hadn't decided to go out today.'_

•~•~•~•~•

_*Author's Note: Oh, god, I really liked writing this one. I love these sorts of love stories. Hopefully it showed in my writing. Please, if you liked it, let me know in a review, or through a follow or favorite. Thank you so, so, so much for reading!*_


	5. Author's Note

Author's Note

Agh! Oh my god, guys, I am soooooo sorry about not updating. I found out about Jeankasa Week literally the day before it happened, so I've been doing all of these the night before the day of, none of them were pre-written. So, despite the slight busy-ness, I was okay. But then, my hormones ruined my weekend with the worst bout of anxiety I have ever had, and so I literally couldn't function. I just got over it today, and I'm posting the rest tonight, tomorrow, and Tuesday. I am so sorry, but I hope you guys understand. The fics will still happen, they'll just be late. Sorry!


	6. Day Five: Silence

**Day Five: Silence**

_Summary: Jean has always been a normal guy. He feels the same way everyone else does, he sees the same way everyone else does, and he looks the same way everyone else does. But there's something about him that's different. He's deaf, and no one can seem to get over it. Except one girl. Mikasa Ackerman._

_Rating: T (Occasional language)_

_Word Count: 2,089_

•~•~•~•~•

Jean's not weird. He wished people would realize that. He basically had the same life as everyone. He woke up, ate breakfast, took a shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and went to school. He ate lunch and went to more classes, came home, did homework, played video games, and ate dinner. He talked to his mom and dad. He texted people. And then he went to sleep. He wasn't different. Being deaf wasn't that bad. You just couldn't be in band or be on the debate team, and it was difficult to listen to music at times, and you had to sign while you talked sometimes because it's hard to pronounce words when you can't hear that well, so people might not always understand you. But that was okay. His life was okay.

Today was a Thursday, which of course meant that he was at school. Luckily, it also meant that in calculus there was no lecture, just the weekly pop quiz. Most students would hate such an assignment, but Jean loved it. He didn't have to read lips as the teacher talked. It was silent, nobody talked to him; he just worked and sat undisturbed until the bell. It also meant that Mikasa was coming over to study with him. So, of course, Thursdays were his favorite day of the week.

Today started out like any other Thursday, and continued like any other Thursday. He read lips in English, Physics, Biotechnology, and partly in art, although mostly he just did assignments. He ate his lunch with Mikasa and some of his and her other friends. Then he took his lovely, completely unpredictable weekly pop quiz in calculus, just like every other Thursday, looked at more lips in World History, and finally was able to drive home after study hall.

Once at home, he finished his homework while devouring a bag of chips, and played video games until it was time for Mikasa to arrive. He was ridiculously nervous, considering how much he'd grown to like her. "Like" was actually a bit of an under exaggeration. He was head-over-heels in love. He got really awkward around her and he used really stupid pick-up lines, but she thought they were all jokes. He was hopelessly friend-zoned, and she probably liked Eren Jaeger, the ever-desirable friend who could actually talk to her.

But maybe today he would get the guts up to tell her. Maybe today he would finally look into her eyes and say "I love you." Was it likely? No. But he could dream that he would do it. He could dream that she would say it back. Jean wasn't much of a dreamer, preferring to focus on the probable, but he did wish for this one thing.

Soon, his mother tapped Jean on the shoulder, gesturing for him to come downstairs. He did as he was told; finding Mikasa sitting at the table with a mug of steaming hot cocoa in her hands, since it was cold outside, and Jean's mother was an extremely hospitable person. He smiled hello and sat down next to her awkwardly.

While they were reading some of the physics textbook, Jean thought about what exactly made Mikasa so special to him. Such a friendship would be a bad thing to lose if he confessed such love, only to realize that his attraction was just a result of some overly romanticized false image of her. Hm. Well, she was beautiful. Not just "pretty" or anything, she was unparalleled by any other in beauty. Her hair was one of his favorite things about her on the outside. Though short, it was silky smooth and jet black, like the night sky; he dreamt of running his fingers through the strands. Her eyes were grey like smoke or silver, captivating in their individuality. Her skin was soft as a child's, and he could only imagine holding her hands in his own, how smooth they would be. Her personality, though, was something so much more incredible in and of itself. She was quiet, kind and gentle. And yet, there was true strength and fortitude, both mental and physical, beneath that layer of calmness. She was extremely loyal to those she cared for, willing to do anything at all for them if it meant their safety or happiness. There was so much to her that he loved. And not just her personality and physical beauty, but the facts that she and Jean understood each other in a way, because she wasn't like everyone else either. Mikasa was mute. There was some defect her vocal cords, something even the best surgeons would ever be able to fix.

Although she could hear, she couldn't speak. They were like each other's mouth and ears in areas where they were lacking. As a result, Jean felt almost as though he could connect to her better than almost anyone he had ever met. It felt like he understood what she was going through, and she understood what he was going through. Maybe that was one of the biggest reasons why he loved her. They'd known each other since freshman year, when he was unattractive and she was somehow pretty in a youthful way, and the teacher put them next to each other in biology because they would work well together, with their complimentary "defects" and all, which really weren't defects, just differences. Every day since then, he'd fallen a little harder for her each day. And damn it, they were seniors now and he'd done nothing about it. Maybe, before she went off to college, he could tell her instead of losing her without her ever knowing, because in all honesty, he could hardly stand keeping this feeling to himself any longer.

Jean had gotten so lost in his musings that he didn't feel her poking him until she gave up and punched him in the arm. Granted, she didn't use her full force, she had the potential to make it hurt much more, but it was still quite painful. He grinned apologetically at her as she rolled her eyes and pointed at one of the lines in the text, then signed him a few things she used to remember that fact. Oh, right. They were studying. But honestly, he had these particular facts committed to memory easily for once. He looked at her and, once she had finished, nodded politely, and promptly closed the thick textbook. She looked quizzically at him, as if to say, hey, what was that for?

He shrugged. "I've got this lesson down. There's no point to going over it," he said.

She raised an eyebrow, somewhat offended. 'So does that mean you want me to leave?'

Jean shook his head. "No. I want you to come on a walk with me." He had finally made up his mind, determined to tell her. He pushed away the nervous feeling in his stomach.

Mikasa shook her head. 'First, your mother would be worried sick if we just left without telling her. Second, why?' After all, he was being quite vague about the whole affair, and it was quite cold outside.

"We leave her a note. I do this all the time. And there's something I need to tell you." In truth, he rarely did this for, for his mother feared something unheard hurting him, such as a car, even though he would most likely hear something as loud as a car coming straight at him. Although Jean loved his mother and would choose no other, she was somewhat overcautious sometimes, at least in his opinion. However, Mikasa's hearing was perfect, so his mother had no possible valid objection to the activity.

Mikasa looked at him in a strange, somewhat unsure way, and then nodded. Jean scribbled a note on a piece of notebook paper, grabbed his coat, and off they went.

•~•~•~•~•

Jean and Mikasa took the short route to the park, which was only five minutes away from Jean's house. They didn't say anything to each other, they just walked together. The cold breeze nipped at their skin, noses red and fingers kept in pockets to keep them from turning blue. The foliage on the trees was white powder, from the ground grew snow instead of grass. The sky was a pure, rich blue, completely clear of clouds, the air crisp around them.

Mikasa finally stopped Jean by a pond turned to white ice, snowflakes coating the surface. She looked at him somewhat sternly. 'What is it that you brought me here to tell me?' After all, though it was pretty, it was also very, very chilly.

Jean's heart beat faster in his chest and his heart swooped. He…he could just say he forgot what it was or say he just wanted her to take a walk with him or something, and then they could go back. Sure, she'd be a little pissed, but at least he might not face rejection. But…he had to tell her some way. He couldn't just lose her to some other school once they graduated, without her ever knowing. But when he opened his mouth, he felt that be couldn't get any words out. So, instead, he held up a hand and signed 'I love you,' his little and index finger extended with his thumb to the side. He blushed darkly, but he needed to say it somehow.

Mikasa looked extremely confused for a minute or two, her brows scrunched. She kept looking at Jean's hands, as if she expected a "just kidding" or "as a friend," but those phrases never came. He held his index and little finger up, thumb slightly to the side, a very clear indicator that he did, in fact, love her. 'What do you mean, Jean?' she motioned. She couldn't understand if he meant romantically or just that he valued their friendship. He certainly couldn't love her the way she loved him, he couldn't. How could he, even as a deaf person, ever love someone who couldn't even speak?

Jean became nervous, more so than he already was, blushing. "I…" His lips paused. How could he really explain it? After a life of so few words, how could he express them? He wasn't good with words, even in writing. He didn't want to seem cheesy or any of that. Hence, why he only used a single sign and three words earlier. But…if she truly didn't understand…oh, what the hell. Fuck it.

Suddenly, Jean crashed his lips into hers, his hand cupping the side of her face, just barely touching her soft skin. She tasted like peppermint and chocolate and something else that he didn't have time to figure out, since he pulled away too quickly. He lingered longer than he should have, too blissfully intoxicated with her lips touching his. Her lips were a little chapped from the cold, but he didn't care, because his were too. The kiss was short and to the point, but it was sweet. And she didn't attempt to pull away, so maybe it was a good way to tell her.

When Jean pulled back, his coppery eyes searched hers desperately for any sign of hunger or desire or anything to suggest that she might want more, or that she felt the same way. Any sign that her heart belonged to him, that maybe she cared. Any quiver, any dilation of pupils, anything at all.

Mikasa, quite honestly, was stunned. She didn't expect this, whatever he had meant. Yet, she didn't…not enjoy it. Hand motions, she decided, would not do her feelings justice. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She kissed him back, gently pulling him down so she wouldn't have to stand on her tiptoes.

After this exchange, it was Jean's turn to look surprised and somewhat flustered. "So, I take it you love me too?" His sign language, as well as his speech, was slow and unsure, as if he still couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

Mikasa smiled and laughed silently—something that looked like a regular laugh, but, since there was a deformity in her vocal cords, sounded like more air being breathed out than usual. Jean blushed and looked down, but she tipped his face back up to hers gently. She nodded, still smiling.

Her smile was so infectious and lovely that soon Jean had cracked a smile too, and they just stood there silently in the snow, shivering, noses red and teeth chattering. Jean pulled her into his arms and peppered her face with soft, happy kisses, the feeling of being accepted, the feeling of being loved by and loving her washing over him, taking control. It was them, just them, and they were happy. They were in love, and that was all that mattered.

God, he loved Thursdays.


	7. Apology

**Author's Note**

I would like to apologize to anyone who read my contribution to Day Five before I updated it. I was misinformed about deaf people, and therefore, the story was incorrect in many areas. A deaf person was kind enough to point out my errors and helped me fix them. These included:

Saying that deaf people could not hear, when in fact they can read lips and can often hear to a certain, though lesser, degree

Saying that deaf people cannot speak. Although they mispronounce words occasionally, they can, in fact, speak.

Deaf people do not always need interpreters.

I sincerely apologize if you read it and was offended by it. I have now updated the story. If you would like, please read the updated version.


End file.
